


Clair de Lune

by yoshizora



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2
Genre: F/F, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 02:12:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18729619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoshizora/pseuds/yoshizora
Summary: Mòrag visits her friend at sea.





	Clair de Lune

**Author's Note:**

> it's mergay!!!! 
> 
> i didn't really feel like writing something with a plot so here's morag making out with a glowing fish
> 
> also, [mood music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CvFH_6DNRCY)

The moon isn’t out tonight, leaving the sea indiscernible from the sky. Her boat glides across that plain of black, and Mòrag feels tempted to drag her fingertips along the surface just to reassure herself that the water is still there. It’s quiet. She listens to the waves lap against the sides of her boat. If she blinks hard, maybe she can see the horizon. 

Then there— a light, not the reflection of the few stars out, but something rising from the yawning depths of the sea. She pulls her oars out of the water and allows her boat to slow to a lazy drift, eyes trained on that dim light. 

She’s forced to squint and shield her eyes as Brighid surfaces, her bioluminescence illuminating the waters around them like fire. She reaches up with hands slippery and wet, to which Mòrag grasps her by the wrists. 

“Brighid,” she breathes out. “Good evening.”

“It’s good to see you again, Mòrag,” Brighid says with a pleasant smile, flashing sharp rows of teeth. “What have you brought for me tonight?” 

“More of that cake you enjoyed last time.” Mòrag hoists her up and the water cascades down Brighid’s body as she’s lifted out of the water. The boat rocks when she hoists herself into the boat with a powerful lash of her tail, and Mòrag painfully hits her leg against the bench. 

Her eyes are bleary, still. She helps Brighid sit down, and she sees those sharp teeth again when her palms slowly slide along her arms. Brighid’s tail rests along the side of the boat, thumping against the wood. 

Mòrag looks down to hide her own smile. 

“Ah… it may rain soon,” Brighid says. Her head turns up to the sky, where the moon is still hidden behind a thick layer of clouds. “Will you be able to find your way back to shore?” 

“If you lend me your guidance, perhaps.” 

The boat had finally stopped rocking. Mòrag pulls out the basket she’d packed and sits beside Brighid. In a way, the unsaid familiarity is nearly frightening; her eyes move across Brighid’s figure, undeniably _beautiful_ , a beacon in the midst of a pitch black sea. Beneath the moonlight, if there were any… 

Would her colors appear dull in the sunlight? She wonders, but they’ve only ever met in the cover of nighttime. She can’t see anything beyond the reach of Brighid’s light. There could be all sorts of beasts circling the boat just out of sight. 

She feels small, thinking about it. 

“You’re staring.” 

“I can hardly help myself, now can I?” Mòrag smoothly replies without missing a beat, earning an affectionate nudge. She opens the basket. There’s a slice of that cake, a couple dozen strawberries, a generous block of chocolate— things that can’t be found in the sea. 

She pauses to look at Brighid again, and allows her gaze to linger.

“Careful, you may go blind if you stare too long.”

“And then? I would be completely at your mercy,” she says, and picks out a strawberry to place between her teeth. 

“Well, when you put it that way…” 

With the serpentine grace of something distinctly monstrous and unnatural, Brighid grasps the back of her head and places her mouth over hers. Mòrag tries not to struggle out of reflex as Brighid’s tongue pushes her jaw loose to claim the strawberry, and then some. 

And then— oh, Brighid swallows the strawberry whole. 

But she keeps her mouth over Mòrag’s, her lips moving softly against hers in a deep kiss. Mòrag is careful not to push her tongue forward (she’d learned her lesson the first time, when she found out how _sharp_ Brighid’s teeth are) and instead allows Brighid to do as she pleases, still holding her head in place. She tastes strongly of the sea and not much else. The salty taste is going to linger in her mouth for the rest of the night, but Mòrag doesn’t particularly mind. 

Brighid hums against her as she curls her fingers through Mòrag’s hair. Water is beginning to drip down the back of her neck. Mòrag shudders and brings one hand up to rest against one of the fins upon Brighid’s head, breathing hard through her nose, the sting of brine filling her throat and lungs. It’s not… unpleasant, anymore. Far from it. 

Then a part of her realizes the basket is about to slide off her lap and she fumbles for it. That seems to break the spell; Brighid pulls back, licking her lips, and doesn’t quite let go of Mòrag just yet. 

“… The strawberries are sour,” she decides. Mòrag scoffs. 

“You barely tasted it.” She takes another strawberry and holds it up. It looks purple in the glow of Brighid’s bioluminescence. “Here. Consider chewing this time. You’ll get more flavor that way.” 

“I think I prefer the cake.” 

“I’ll bring nothing but cake from now on, then,” Mòrag dryly says, but her gaze is affectionate. A mermaid who eats _desserts_. It’s as preposterous as it sounds, yet here they are. 

Brighid makes quick work of the slice, surprisingly fastidious about how she practically wolfs it down. Once the cake is done, she finishes off the strawberries, then nibbles a bit at the hard block of chocolate. 

Maybe she should bring more food, just to make these moments last longer. 

“I’m getting dry,” Brighid declares once she’d decided she had enough of the chocolate. “Will you come into the water with me, this time?”

Mòrag hesitates. Thoughts of being dragged beneath the surface until her lungs are burning and her ears burst flash through her mind. 

But she nods. Brighid would _never_ hurt her. Never. “Of course.” 

Getting into the water is easier said than done. Brighid dives down with a splash, not deep enough for her light to vanish, but deep enough that it’s _quiet_ for a moment. Mòrag realizes her hands are shaking as she shrugs off her coat and pries her boots off. The wind is starting to pick up. Best to keep the rest of her clothes on, this time. 

She has one leg dangling over the edge when Brighid resurfaces. She grins widely and holds her arms out to take ahold of Mòrag when she leaves the sanctuary of her boat, slipping into the water with a tremor of shock against the cold. Yet, despite that, Brighid is warm— and Mòrag allows herself to go limp, focusing on steadying her breathing while Brighid keeps her head above the water. 

“Someday, I’d like to show you Alba Cavanich,” she murmurs, thinking of its dusty streets and noisy crowds. Brighid hums and begins to swim lazy circles around the boat on her back. 

“Only if you buy me more of that cake.” Brighid gently, carefully nibbles on Mòrag’s ear, and slides a hand up beneath her wet shirt to run fingers up and down her spine. 

“I would buy the entire patisserie for you, Brighid, and then some,” she breathlessly laughs. 

The clouds are finally beginning to disperse. A sliver of moonlight touches the water, and now Mòrag can actually see the boat as Brighid circles around it. The water doesn’t feel so cold anymore. Or perhaps she’d gone numb. 

Brighid slowly opens her eyes, milky blue and nearly translucent. Mòrag isn’t quite sure if she’s looking up at the moon or at her. 

“Mòrag Ladair,” she murmurs, touching her face. “It’s a dangerous thing, to fall in love with my kind.”

“Dangerous for my coin purse, perhaps.”

“You’ve never been afraid of me.”

“No,” she admits. “I’m only afraid of drowning.” 

“Ahh…” 

She stops circling the boat to tread upright, still keeping Mòrag held flush against her body. They kiss again, this time without a strawberry between Mòrag’s teeth, and with the lingering taste of sweets left in Brighid’s mouth. They kiss until the moon is once again hidden behind the clouds and the wind threatens to pull Mòrag’s boat out of sight. 

Mòrag climbs back into the boat shivering and cold, already tempted to leap back into the water and into Brighid’s warm embrace. But it’s dangerous— next time, next time. Next time, she’ll bring more cake, and maybe persimmons for her to try. She slings her coat over herself to stave off the chill. 

“I’d protect you from the people, just as you protect me from the sea,” she says to Brighid, looking down at her over the side. “You would hate Alba Cavanich, truthfully. But the views are something to behold.” 

“It seems only fair, that you would tempt me in return,” Brighid laughs, and the light she emanates glows just a bit brighter. 

Who’s luring who, really? Does it really matter? 

“Would you consider my offer, then?” 

“Perhaps…” She offers a hand, and Mòrag kisses the back of it. “I really am fond of you, you know.” 

She can practically hear Mòrag’s heart swell with elation in her exhale. 

“Until next time, Brighid. Good night.”

“Good night, Mòrag.”

And Brighid pushes off the boat and dives down without a sound. Mòrag remains rooted in place, staring into the murky darkness until her bioluminescence has vanished out of sight. The wind reminds her not to loiter— she straightens up and reaches for the oars to begin rowing back to land. 

Overhead, the clouds make way for the moon once more.


End file.
